


Just Look At Me

by allthegayotps



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cas Feels Worthless, Emotionally Repressed, Feelings, Help I've Fallen Into a Pit of Feels and Can't Get Up, If you only read one work by me, Lots of Thought, M/M, Protective Sam Winchester, Sharing a Bed, Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 07:02:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5958085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthegayotps/pseuds/allthegayotps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"<em>At least while he's asleep he doesn't want me to leave.</em>"</p><p>The thought burned, but he realized that this wasn't true. Dean was just cold and wanted Cas's heat pressed closer to chase the chill away. He'd never do it while they were awake. No, instead he left Cas to ask questions through Sam, the younger Winchester looking on as if he couldn't figure out how to fix the interaction between the two. Usually, that look morphed into one of pity after a night like the last. One where Dean had stumbled in drunk to the living room and yanked Cas up by his wrist, pulling him into the low heat of alcohol-induced passion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Look At Me

He burrows deeper into the heat encircling his limbs, trying desperately to escape the oncoming awareness, but it won't be that easy. Waking up next to Dean is never that easy. He keeps his breathing steady, the faded gun powder and whiskey smell reminding him of safety and home more than any other smell ever could. Damn, if he could just stay here for the rest of the day. He can feel the presses of bare skin against skin and knows he should leave before Dean wakes up. It will just be awkward if he waits until after the hunter's eyes fly open, looking painfully at their touching skin. He ignores the thought, the sensible part of his brain calling him a masochist and the other part wondering if he could get drunk on the musk of his friend. 

Really, he should have been able to deny the man's advances, but kissing him was intoxicating. A slow burn that felt like it was going to light him on fire from the inside, but could never dull the ice in his veins at the looks he received the next day. Castiel sighed at the feel of the hunter's hand pressing him forward, pulling him to rest against the bare chest in the peaceful slumber that overtook him.

_At least while he's asleep he doesn't want me to leave._

The thought burned, but he realized that this wasn't true. Dean was just cold and wanted Cas's heat pressed closer to chase the chill away. He'd never do it while they were awake. No, instead he left Cas to ask questions through Sam, the younger Winchester looking on as if he couldn't figure out how to fix the interaction between the two. Usually, that look morphed into one of pity after a night like the last. One where Dean had stumbled in drunk to the living room and yanked Cas up by his wrist, pulling him into the low heat of alcohol-induced passion.

And it was so damn good that he could cry thinking of it, the attention from Dean enough to have him ready to give the oldest brother anything - anything he wanted. He had led the former angel from the room, stumbling as he tried to keep their lips connected on his way to the bedroom. Really, Cas realized that Dean was just as good in bed as everyone else, maybe a little better because of his many experiences concerning one night stands. Yet, when he was under those calloused hands, watching them take him apart slowly and never really put him back together, he couldn't help but feel like Dean was the best lover on the Earth.

The small moments of attention were like a drug, hooking Cas with the smallest taste until he was grasping at anything he could get. Looks, heated touches, but never words. Dean never spoke to him, but that wasn't a change. He hadn't spoken to Dean in over two weeks by now and had given up any hope for a semblance of the nice, easy smile he could remember Sam putting there. It was usually when Sam said something he found amusing, his eyes would crinkle and his lips would pull up at the edges. It took his breath away to see Dean so happy, if only just for a few moments.

Dean stirred, but Cas couldn't find it in himself to care, really. He laid still, letting his muscles become limp to Dean's movements. The hunter cursed, pulling himself free from the tangle of their legs and the sound of cotton over skin reached his ears. He shifted, pulling the fingers being assaulted by the chill of the Bunker air to absorb the heat Dean had left behind. He felt the mattress dip and a pressure in his hair, moving the tendrils lazily. Like a starved man, Cas wished Dean would stay and rub at his scalp longer, give him that much more to keep him going until the next time Dean got drunk enough to want him again. 

But, Dean leaving the moment was inevitable and Cas tried not to dwell on the fact that, in less than an hour's time, Dean would be ignoring him again. The soft click of the door opening and closing brought the sadness with it.

"We have to talk." It was Sam, but wasn't addressed to him. It was accompanied by the thump of Dean's head against the door, probably leaning back on it as he steeled for the conversation that would most likely ruin Cas's life.

"'Bout what?" He sounded sleepy, quiet voice reaching Cas's ears like a soothing balm on the worst sunburn known to grace human skin. 

"You gotta stop," Sam plead with his brother and Cas silently prayed for him to stop. 

"What d'you mean? He wants it just as much as I do. Two consenti-" Dean was interrupted, head thumping on the door again.

"Dean, you treat girls you pick up in the middle of nowhereville, Kentucky better than you're treating Cas right now." His voice was sharp, but kept low in an attempt for them to not wake their former angel friend.

 _Joke's on them_ , Castiel thought sarcastically.

"I just- I can't." The shuffling of feet, a paused that filled Cas's traitorous heart with more hope than he dared admit - even to himself. More shuffling and complete silence. He tried to ignore the pain in his heart as he collected his clothing, retreating to his room to burrow under the cold blankets. 

*********

He woke to find himself back in the circle of arms that smelled too much like whiskey to be a sober pairing. This time, he tore himself from the warmth without a pause. If he did pause, he'd stay in those arms. Again, this was the first time he had interacted with Dean since their last... rendezvous. He dressed, thoughts wandering as he pulled the light colored jeans over his narrow hips.

He stood next to the bed, trying desperately to memorize the planes of the man's face. The sweet, simple upturn of lips that graced his features only when he was sleeping. If Cas could have more time to watch Dean sleep, he would have wavered when his mind told him to leave, but knew that the three of them woke within a dangerous amount of time from each other for it to be safe for him to be there - even then. 

But, as it was, he exited the room with only the soft click of the doorknob accompanying him out. He padded down the halls, ignoring the feel of the chilly air touching his bare chest. His next companion would be coffee, sweet and energizing in a way Cas could find nothing to match. He was silently preparing the drink when he heard the sound of footsteps in the great room. From the sound of the gait, he knew it had to be Sam, but didn't go out to join him in rifling through papers as the taller hunter was.

"You're right." He shouldn't have eavesdropped on their conversations so often, but could not help himself from getting close to the door, savoring the sound of Dean's sex-mussed voice in all of it's glory. "I shouldn't have... I'm no better than a pedo, man." Papers stilled.

"No, Dean." Sam sounded like he was in pain from only the words, but Cas couldn't see the interaction to know whether or not he was using those pleading eyes to try and beat his brother's self-hatred down just a little.

"I feel dirty, dude. Like I just rolled in the sack with a thirteen year old." His words were thick, the moisture in his eyes evident in his tone. "God, I took advantage of him."

Cas couldn't hear the conversation clearly anymore, his chest heaving at the implication that he may lose the last thing he and Dean shared. Without thinking, he was setting down his mug and walking out of the back door, surveying the quiet backyard for a place to hide from the prying eyes that may look for him here. Really, it wasn't a good idea to hide from them, they'd just find him by the sound of his clacking teeth when he got too cold and didn't realize he was shivering.

But, tears raced down his cheeks like horses around a derby, pushing themselves to be the first to drop onto the pale skin of his chest. Dean thought of him as a child. His actions made him look like one he was sure. The emotions he was feeling burned through him like a fire. Too bright, too hot for him to tame. Most of those first days were punctuated by either tears or screams, anger working through him about everything he couldn't seem to do on his own.

He folded deeper into the side of the tree, wondering if he folded himself small enough he could appeal to his father's mercy and just disappear. But, such was not his fate as he sat, blinking at the tree just in front of him. Maybe if he tried to live on his own, Dean would be able to talk to him with the same ease he used to exude. The thoughts possessed him. For hours, he listed reasons why or why not he should leave the brothers, only stopping at the burn of Sam's hand on his shoulder.

"Damn, Cas." The warmth from the young Winchester's hand was pleasing, the appendage drawing his attention to just how _cold_  he was. The young man was hauling him up by the armpits, two bright spots of warmth invading his body at press of those palms. "What are you doing out here?"

Cas watched as he was steered back into the Bunker, tugged until he was resting on the small sofa they'd set up in the only room hey'd changed in the whole establishment. He felt the throw blanket they usually kept lying on the back of the couch circle him and a different voice calling out to Sam from a different room. "I was surveying nature."

"Without a shirt?" Dean was poking his head in, eyes hitting the former angel's frame almost immediately. "Or shoes?" Sam's angry questions didn't concern him as much as they should, but he could feel every millimeter of Dean's gaze and wanted to live in the feeling of his sober attentions. 

"What was he doing?" Hearing Dean's voice so close to him brought the tears he had been able to push away before back to the surface, but those eyes had already moved on, unaware of his change while he talked to his brother.

" _Surveying nature._ " Sam was turned away too and Cas felt himself thinking back to the possibility of leaving the Winchesters. But, this time his mind drug up something it hadn't before. He could never leave them for his own selfish reasons. So, he banished the tears and calmly answered their questions, stamping down the hope that had built in his chest when Dean told him to "Never scare me like that again."

*********

Dean was downing whiskey like it was keeping him alive at this point and all Cas wanted was him to just look. 

_Please, just look at me._

No matter how much he had silently begged for the hunter to look his way, there hadn't been so much as a bored glance in his direction in weeks. No matter how much he drank.

Cas had succumbed to the burn of alcohol, too, feeling the fire lapping at his insides in a way that reminded him of the last time Dean had taken him apart, languid like he didn't have to rush things, just wanted to enjoy them as much as he could. God, Cas wished he'd do it again. He didn't remember deciding to move, but instead found himself sinking into Dean's lap with a shy smile. 

Dean wasn't phased, downing another glass before he spoke. "No." One simple word, but Cas didn't want to hear it, he ran fingers over Dean's face, feeling the two day old stubble. Again, the word came from between Dean's lips, this time accentuated by the gritted teeth anchoring his jaw shut. " _No_." Again, he ignored it, hoping that he could draw out that flame he hadn't seen in over a month. He kissed against Dean's neck, finding himself being lifted and set back in his own chair before there was another sound. The prick in his eyes was no match to the punch in the heart Dean's words were. "I said no, Cas." 

"I don't understand." His lips were uncontrollable in the effects of his own glasses of whiskey. Cas could taste the tears before he felt them, knowing he would regret his actions when he sobered up enough to remember why he wasn't supposed to show the way he felt.

The man sighed, running a hand through his short-cropped hair in response to his friend's words instead of the actual clarification that he needed so desperately in that moment. Cas knocked back another inch of the liquid, filling the next more than he should have if he was telling the truth. The burn of the whiskey chased away the saltwater, but he could still feel the prick of emotion against his eyeballs as he drained the glass again. He was knocking back another when Dean took his glass.

"You're going to make yourself sick." Cas retrieved the glass easily enough, waving a hand as he started to pour again.

"'d be better than this." His fingers traveled across the visage of the room, eluding to the atmosphere, but it was clear in Dean's taut posture that he thought the angel meant something else.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He gripped the edge of the table, white knuckling the wood in a fashion that had Cas ready to scream in agony. Why couldn't Dean hold him instead?

"It means, 'm tired of the silent treatment." Cas sipped at the whiskey this time, knowing he was far too drunk to keep knocking them back like a half-wit sorority girl.

"So, talk to me."  Dean rubbed at his face, eyes never moving from the lore they'd been ignoring with the strong whiskey.

"Look at me." Honestly, the alcohol didn't make his voice come out as the scratchy, tires over gravel sound that it did. That was all the pure, undulated sadness that swept over him as he realized he'd forgotten the exact shade of Dean's eyes. Then, those eyes were inches away from his own, walls slamming closed behind them where they'd once held all the reassurance Cas needed when he was too anxious or thought he wasn't good enough. 

The flat, even tone was even worse, bringing back the stinging behind his eyelids. "What are you expecting me to say?" As soon as the sentence passed his lips, the hunter turned away and resumed staring at lore that he, in no way, was reading.

He began to stand, biting out a "I can do it by myself." when Dean tried to catch him from stumbling.

"What do you want, Cas?" It was soft, a plea for the former angel to tell him exactly how to handle the situation they'd been dancing around for too long. "I don't know what to give you 'cause I don't know what you want."

He was facing away from Dean, but he could still feel the press of the table against his leg as he swayed under the weight of the alcohol he'd ingested in such a small amount of time. "I've told you before, Dean." He stumbled forward, drops of tears he hadn't realized were there falling onto his outstretched palm. "I just want to matter to you."

And, he was gone. He was walking along the barely lit hallway until he found his room, falling onto the bed with his clothes still on. 

*********

Honestly, Cas could feel Dean's eyes whenever his back was turned, but the green orbs were always focused on the laptop screen or his coffee when Cas sought out the weight of his gaze. Castiel assumed it was time for the goodbye speech and waited for Sam to get awkward or fidgety, but all was the same. 

It was the same for a whole week. Cas broke under the pressure of remaining calm knowing he was sitting on a time bomb.

"Would you just tell me to leave, already?" The two were alone in the library and Sam's eyebrow raised as he tilted the lore downward, revealing the lower half of his confused expression before Cas motioned to the entrance to the hallway. "I- I can feel this place getting smaller as I make him more uncomfortable." 

"Uncomfortable?" Sam's features pulled down into a scowl. "I promise you don't make him uncomfortable."

"Then why won't he talk to me?" Cas paused, rubbing his eyelids to keep the tears at bay. Damn, he was such a crybaby. "Or look at me? At least when he was fucking me I had _something_ to tell me he wanted me around."

"Is that-" Sam's words stopped, his eyes traveling just beyond the former angel's shoulder to look at something. Before he could ask the younger Winchester what it was, he was standing and retreating from the room. Whatever it was, it gave him a good spook.

Dean's eyes were still set on him when he turned, the attention scraping over him like an exposed nerve being stroked the right way. God, it was like he was seeing the depths of his friend's eyes for the first time. And so, the moth is drawn to the flame. Dean Winchester, the only person that could satiate his raw need and make him want to ball up and cry at the same time.

"That's why you tried to kiss me?" Except for the low words, Cas couldn't hear a single noise disrupt the silence of the library. Sam had to be in his room by now. "You think I don't want you around?"

"It not like you keep it a secret." The words bite at his insides, the sarcasm masking his pain at the realization that this is the moment Dean is going to tell him to leave. Maybe he'll be told to never come back, too.

"God, a real good job I've done." He buried his hand in the dirty blonde hair covering his head, pulling roughly at the strands. "You're the one who left and- I just-"

"What are you talking about?" He was confused, but tried mercilessly to keep his head from tilting on his neck, watching Dean's eyes light with a fire he hadn't seen himself in months.

"I'm talking about the first night I shoved you into my bedroom and woke up to an empty bed." His hand smacked into his thigh, exasperation evident as he continued. "And the first time I woke up with you still there when you ran out like I threatened to go Hannibal on you." From a different stand on the matter, Cas could see all of these things and recognize small pieces he'd misinterpreted. "Or, my favorite was when I woke up before you, took a piss, and then came back to an empty bed. Again." The hunter rubbed his face, suddenly looking his age for just a moment. "Tell me what to do and I'll do it, just don't run away from me anymore."

And Cas could have been floating with how easy it felt to abandon his chair and bury himself in Dean's arms. Warm, supple muscle covered by the thin fabric of a t-shirt pressing against his cheek, hands pressed against his back as if to keep him from going anywhere. As if God himself could swoop down and take him from Dean's arms in that moment for anything in the Universe.


End file.
